Uh, Spock? You're Bleeding
by EmberAmberFirdaus
Summary: Spock likes Bones. Bones likes Spock. Neither realize until Spock gets sick. So, what's gonna happen?


Knock, Knock, Knock.

Spock raised his head wearily to look at the door.

He pressed the DENY button. An irritated grunt came from outside the room. He ignored it.

Trying to focus on the Padd in front of him, he attempted to ignore his body reminding him he had been working for over two days straight, with no break.

"Spock, I know you're in there. Stop being so anti-help-for a moment, and let me in."

Spock rubbed at his eyes and tried to ignore the shivers wracking his body. He tried to focus, to cut the pain in his head for a moment, but was stopped when he heard the clicking of a medical override code being tapped into the door panel.

He attempted to get up, to tell the Doctor to go away, but fell to the floor with a harsh thud. His head hit a metal corner with a sickening crack.

The door opened, and with it a flood of harsh artificial light. Spock couldn't help the small groan that came out as the light hit his sensitive eyes.

"Shit, it's _hot_ in here." Then, "Spock? Can you hear me right now?"

A hand, warm to his his chilled body, landed on his side where his heart was, and Spock pushed closer to feel that warmth. He was so cold.

"Spock? Spock! You're burning up!" The whirr of a medical tricorder, and "Goddamnit, you really are running a temperature."

Spock felt himself being turned over, then propped up. He burrowed closer to the warmth. The human grunted in surprise.

"Spock, I'm going to call an emergency team, ok? I'll be right back."

He grabbed blindly, and latched onto a strong arm, whose owner squeaked, and then said in a gruff voice, "Spock. I need to at least get you on the bed. Do you think you can stand?"

Spock nodded, and attempted to push himself up onto his knees. The simple movement made his head spin, and the world with it. He panicked, and was shocked to feel a pair of strong arms catch him, and hug him close to the warm, so warm, chest. He felt drowsy, and let the warmth carry him to a safe place, deep into the darkness...so comfortable...

* * *

Bones was terrified when he saw Spock on the floor. Though he might not admit it, seeing Spock vulnerable was unnerving. The Vulcan was always so strong, even when he was bleeding from multiple wounds. Even then, he still had a wry sense of humor.

So maybe he had a thing for Vulcans and pointy ears. But Spock wasn't strong now. His heart, always so fast, was slower than a humans. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed. Spock's eyes had deep green circles underneath them, and he looked gaunt. Vulcans, as a general rule, were relatively light, but Spock was incredibly thin. You could count every rib in his body. You could see right through his skin.

Leonard Mccoy was not known for being soft and mushy, but this man seemed to bring out the best-and worst-in him.

Focusing on the task at hand, Bones slid his arm underneath Spock's long, lean legs, and lifted him up.

As he swung him onto the bed, Leonard worried about the weight again. How long had it been since Spock had eaten? And why hadn't he noticed?

Leonard tucked the covers in around Spock, and smoothed his hair back. How many times had he wanted to see if that hair ruffled a fraction of an inch? He had never wanted it like this.

"D-Doctor? Doctor, is-is that y-you?" Spock's eyes fluttered open, and he tried to sit up.

"Oh _no_ you don't." The doctor pushed him back down on the pillows.

"D-Doctor, I assure you, this isn't...isn't...isn't..." Spock trailed off, looking very confused.

"Isn't necessary?" The doctor supplied. He had never known Spock to stutter before this.

"Yes." Spock replied.

* * *

The next time Spock woke up, he was in Sickbay, looking through a fevered haze into the worried gazes of the Doctor and the Captain.

"Jesus, Spock, you were almost _dead!"_ Jim Kirk was known for his affections toward his crew, whom he considered family, and at the moment, he was stalking around Spock's bed.

"Captain." Before anyone could stop him, Spock swung his legs over the edge of the biobed, and stood up, at attention.

"Spock, sit down, you goddamned fool! You still aren't stable!"

As if to prove the Doctor's point, his legs wobbled and then collapsed underneath him.

Jim and Leonard jumped forward, but they were too late. Spock's head cracked on the side of the biobed.

The last thing he saw before his vision went black was his friends' anxious faces, and the Doctor shouting for a nurse.

* * *

This time, his head pounded mercilessly, with no chance of stopping. He couldn't even get into the lightest stage of meditation. Spock struggled to open his eyes. The light hit him with a harsh glare, and he winced, trying to bring his hands up to cover his eyes.

"Lights, fifty percent."

Spock turned his head slightly, ignoring the fierce stabbing, and saw the Doctor sitting on a chair next to the bed.

He noticed he was in his own room again, which he appreciated, as well as the warmth of his home planet washing over him. Home. A place he would never see again.

"Doc...Doctor." Spock inclined his head ever so slightly, and Doctor McCoy nodded back.

"May I ask why I am here, and restrained to a bed?" Spock asked.

"Why Spock, if I didn't know better, I would say that's a hint of-_the horror!-_irritation in your voice.

"Of course not, Doctor." Spock replied acidly. He looked like a cat doused in water, hackles up.

Bones grinned at him.

"I would not pretend to have the knowledge of this emotion, as-_ah..."_

Spock's head reminded him of the pain again, and he made a small sound of discomfort-although he tried not to let any slip out.

The Doctor's grin faltered. "Spock, what's wrong?"

"I seem to be...to be experiencing a significant..._headache_...and cannot seem to control it satisfactorily. Also, there is a general sense of weakness." Spock looked at the Doctor, rather frustrated-for lack of a better word.

"Well, the headache is from the trauma your head sustained by being hit-not once, but twice on solid metal surfaces. And the weakness is from being significantly underweight-at least _fifty pounds!_ What were you _thinking_, not eating for weeks!? I mean, I know you can, _theoretically_, go without food for weeks-same as with sleep-but you aren't fully Vulcan, you need to remember that! What the hell is wrong, Spock?"

Spock had been shrinking back into the bed while he was talking, and seemed to disappear among the sheets. Bones saw this and sighed.

"Look, Spock, I'm not trying to yell at you. Really. I-I guess I'm just worried. What's wrong? Don't you know-" He continued in a gentler tone"Don't you know you can trust us-_me?_ I know that you aren't as indestructible as everyone seems to think-I've been elbow-deep in your guts often enough. Yet you seem to just jump into danger, with no thought as to your own personal safety. I-Please." Bones slumped into the chair, and glanced at the Vulcan.

Spock's deep-set chocolate eyes held a spark of sorrow, and, when one looked closely enough, fire. Leonard McCoy knew suddenly what kind of person he was dealing with. It was the type of person who had nothing left to lose. Weren't Vulcans supposed to be emotionless? As soon as that thought flew his mind, Bones dismissed it. He knew it to be false. The flash of humor, the fleeting smiles, the tiny smirks-even the way Spock's mouth turned down ever-so-slightly when he was irritated. God, he was obsessed.

"Goddamn-Spock, c'mere." Bones sat next to the thin Vulcan, and, carefully, as if dealing with a wild animal, extended his arms to reach around him.

For a horrible moment, Bones thought the man would remain stone-cold and rigid, making all this-and his not-so-small feelings for the man-all for naught and this moment incredibly awkward.

Then, Spock relaxed into the arms that held him so strongly, and a tremor ran through his prone, vulnerable form.

Bones let go of a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, and smiled. This Spock was unfamiliar, but God he was so...small.

"Shhh, it's okay. Just let it go, Spock. It's fine." As Bones held onto him, he wondered if the Vulcan knew the depth of his love.

As he contemplated this, Spock shook, and released a pained cry.

"What's wrong!?" Bones let go of Spock, and looked him over, trying to find out the cause of the cry.

Spock's body shook with the massive tremors.

"Sssshhhhh, shhhhhhh. It's okay, Spock, it's okay. Tell me what's wrong!"

Spock tensed for a second, then relaxed again.

"P-P-P-"

"Pain?" Bones guessed.

Spock nodded jerkily, and the agony became clear on his face once again just for an instant. Then he took back control.

Bones took out a tricorder, and scanned him. "Holy _shit,_ Spock. These pain levels-they're-"

"High" Spock supplied, lips pressed together thinly.

"Yeah, no kiddin'." Bones reached for a hypospray, and told the Vulcan, "This is a pain killer, ok?"

Spock didn't reply, and Bones looked at him, concerned. The Vulcan was preoccupied with the unusual event of him bleeding-although there had been no lacerations a moment ago.


End file.
